Carnage - the anticlimax

Yesterday Leah and Momsie went with me to have the dressing officially taken off my incision. 

And d'oh. 

Guess I waited too long, because the freaking thing is already half-healed over.  Wait, where's the gore?  Where's the shriek-queen-worthy blood? 

Oh, doood... I've been robbed.

Oh well.  I've still got a numb ear and a numb tongue.  The dizziness is gone and my balance is back.  I stopped taking painkillers two days ago (4 days post-op), although every once in awhile that whole side of my head detaches itself and hurls a sledgehammer into my brain.  That's when I stick a finger in my ear, squinch up my face and say something quite diplomatic... like, "Moommm!  My ear hurts!"

My apologies, my dear elves.  Cylon technology really has advanced, I guess.  No stitches, no bloody trails down my neck, no huge, gaping scars over half of my cranium.  Siiigh.   I know, I know.  Believe me, I'm just as disappointed as you are.

Please accept this picture in partial compensation.  When I was downloading the scar pic, I found this one, clearly taken on the sly the night before.

This is pretty close to what we call her Chucky face.  As in monster demon puppet, yes, yes.  And good god, when she was younger, had even chubbier cheeks and shorter, wilder hair, she'd do this and people would shudder and hide their children behind their legs.  How she ever came out of those years in her life with such healthy self-esteem, I'll never know.  I admire that girl's tenacity.

In any case, this isn't what she was doing in the doctor's office.  Every time the doctor pulled off a piece of tape, she'd whimper and shudder.  And this, five minutes after telling me she wanted a CI too so she could be just like Mommy. 

(In other words, just as confused and contradictory -- and freakin' proud of it.)